


Two Weddings

by KikiRose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, F/M, First War with Voldemort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 18:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4272753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KikiRose/pseuds/KikiRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus had never thought the first wedding he would have attended after the Potters’ would have been his own, but here he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. August 1978

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics are from Van Morrison's "Sweet Thing"

 

 _Don't leave me, stay here and frighten me_  
_Don't leave me, come now enlighten me_  
_Give me all you got, give me your wallet and your watch_  
_Give me your first-born, give me the rainbow and the..._

\--Sia, "Fair Game"

 

James’ and Lily’s wedding was small and Remus knows it is small because all their loved ones are all either scared, in hiding, or dead. He didn’t know things could be so beautiful during a war, but Lily looked so ethereal gliding across the cramped dance floor in her champagne-colored dress that Remus felt, for a moment, like there might be glory in the world still.

The ceremony had been emotional, quick. Remus had cried into his handkerchief not once but twice, and he had watched Sirius tense face during the wedding vows. The three Marauders had stood next to James, his groomsmen, with Sirius standing solemnly as best man. Peter had been fidgety, a little gloomy. Remus had  thought Peter looked like how it it might feel when your parent remarried and you went from being a child to a stepchild, suddenly desperate to be the center of attention again. It was cruel, perhaps, but Remus felt so far away from their schoolboy days that he almost couldn’t dredge any of the familiar pity for Peter. Almost.

He wasn’t sure how he had ended up resting against the wall of the tiny, warm barn, watching the small congregation of guests enjoy themselves. Almost all of the remaining Order had come, both to celebrate and to protect. Remus watched Mad-Eye waltz with McGonagall and felt a small sob rise like a dry heave up his throat. It hurt to be happy, even in this small sanctuary of warmth and flickering enchanted candlelight. Outside, Remus knew, it was dark and full of terrors.

“Moony.”

The soft, low voice behind him sent shivers up Remus’ spine and he turned to see Sirius standing partially in shadow. He looked so handsome in his white shirt with sleeves rolled up, tie already loose, vest already rumpled--Remus felt his throat tighten again.

“Pads,” Remus smiled slightly, “why aren’t you out there cutting a rug?”

Sirius shook his head, grinning ruefully, “I don’t want to show up James on his special day. We both know if I got out there I’d make him look like a right fool.”

Remus reached out to take Sirius’ hand, drawing him closer. “You dance like a headless hippogriff, Sirius, it’s quite pathetic, really.”

Sirius managed a quiet huff of laughter before shadows took over the lines in his face. Already Sirius had aged so much. They all had, Remus knew; he had found clump of silver hair at his temple earlier that morning.

Sirius dropped Remus’ hand but reached out to soothe an errant curl from his forehead. “You look so pensive, Moony. Obviously you haven’t had enough to drink tonight.”

“I don’t drink anymore,” Remus looked away, “you know I think you should stop, too.”

“If Voldemort finds me it won’t matter if I’m drunk or not, Moony,” Sirius sounded exasperated, “let a man his little pleasures, God help me.”

They were both silent for a few moments, standing side-by-side and watched James and Lily dance to a slow harp melody, staring into each other’s eyes without smiling.

“I always imagined their wedding being happier,” Remus whispered, “but now all I can think about is dying.”

Sirius’ cold fingers circled his wrist, squeezing tightly. “Try and put it all out of your mind, Moony, just for the night. It’s the least we can do, for them.”

Remus’ turned his head so him so he was facing Sirius. Their height difference had grown less pronounced over the years, but Remus still secretly reveled in the good couple of inches between them. He looked down so their noses were almost touching, too vulnerable to be embarrassed at the thought of who might see them. While none of their friends except James and Lily had ever asked them if they were together, Remus was still sure everyone knew. No one cared; not now. It didn’t matter who you found solace in during this times. Remus was grateful for the silence more than anything.

“Moony--” Sirius’ thought was cut off when the band began playing an old muggle love song from the sixties. James’ must have asked them to, the sap. The song reminded Remus to intimately, so painfully, of the muggle records they would play over the summers of their teen years that he felt it like a physical blow.

Sirius’ eyes widened and his mouth quirked down like he was going to cry before it bounced back into a grin. “Oi, Moony, why don’t we have a dance? Let’s both show James what a good waltz looks like, the sod.”

For a moment Remus was fully prepared to say, “Sirius, absolutely not, that’s a terrible idea” when he realized how ridiculous it was to say no.

“I’m not going to dip you, Pads,” Remus grinned before taking Sirius’ hand and tugging him out to the space where everyone was laughing and spinning.

 

_And I will stroll the merry way_

_And jump the hedges first_

_And I will drink the clear_

_Clean water for to quench my thirst_

 

Remus and Sirius truly did dance like two animals but all that mattered to Remus was the joy in Sirius’ face and his loose limbs as they shuffled and moved together and then apart again. James and Lily were smiling and laughing at them, and Remus closed his eyes to memorize the sound of the music and Sirius’ barking laugh.

 

_And I will never grow so old again_

_And I will walk and talk_

_In gardens all wet with rain_

 

Everything was slow and warm and summertime at the Potters’ home Sirius as a laughing youth with dark eyes and wicked smiles and strong hands and Remus felt all the love he had ever felt for Sirius like a sharp thorn in his heart so painful it was pure pleasure. The song surrounded him like the strongest spell, the greatest protective charm, blocking out the darkness and encroaching doom that waited for him just outside the little barn. Everything narrowed down to Sirius’ rough, warm hands in his own and the familiar smell of Sirius’ hair and sweat thick in Remus’ throat.

 

_Oh sweet thing, sweet thing_

_My, my, my, my, my sweet thing_

_And I will raise my hand up_

_Into the night time sky_

_And count the stars_

_That's shining in your eye_

 

When the song ended James clapped Sirius on the back, laughing uproariously while Lily took a few photos and out of the corner of his eye Remus could see Peter watching them all as if for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to be a part of something he obviously belonged to.

“Bloody hell, neither of you can dance.” James chuckled, ruffling Sirius’ hair. “That was right beautiful, that was. Brought a tear to mine eye.”

“We had to do something to brighten up this snooze fest, Prongs,” Sirius grinned, “there’s only so much of you and Lily staring adoringly at each other a man can take.”

Lily smacked his arm and the four of them started laughing again, oblivious to the room around them. Remus looked into Sirius’ dark eyes and felt happiness in the marrow of his bones, in all the recesses of his mind where it had fled. He closed his eyes again and let his friends’ laughter break over him like waves.

 

Later, after many of of the guests had said their goodbyes and disappeared into the treacherous night, Sirius and Remus sat side by side on the floor with their backs against the wall in the far corner of the room. Lily was sitting with James at a rickety table in the center with Peter and Kingsley, who were drunkenly recounting some of James’ greatest Quidditch moments.

“I can’t remember the last time we were all together like this,” Sirius said quietly, “pretending like everything was fine.”

Remus smoothed his thumb over the back of Sirius’ hand, “it must have been while we were still in school.”

Sirius was quite, dark, full of shadows. Remus felt like a first year again, caught between reverence and fear at the sight of someone who was so obviously full of equal parts destruction and pure brilliant light. An angel, Remus had often thought in his very maudlin moments, Sirius was like an angel from an old Renaissance painting. Terrifying, larger than life, yet still holy and promising salvation.

“Sirius.”

Sirius looked up, eyebrows coming together, “What is it, Moony?”

“I--” Remus struggled to form the words that would somehow convey the shattered glass in his chest as coherent feelings. “I...I want us to be like this, always.”

Sirius looked taken aback for a moment before smiling, “Vaguely aroused together in a barn, arses asleep, listening to James talk about himself?”

“No--”

“I know what you mean, idiot.” Sirius laughed before leaning over and kissing Remus roughly, tugging at his hair and then at his collar.

They broke apart and Remus felt like a seventh year again, drunk on Sirius’ kisses and unable to believe he was lucky enough to be the one receiving them.

“We’ll always be like this, Moony,” Sirius said quietly, “I won’t let anything change it.”

Remus watched the candlelight cast long, flickering shadows across Sirius’ aristocratic face. For a moment, they made him almost recognizable.

Then the moment passed and Remus pulled them together for another kiss, as brief and as illuminating as lightning.

  



	2. July 1997

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus had never thought the first wedding he would have attended after the Potters’ would have been his own, but here he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from Van Morrison's "Sweet Thing"

_"I can only hope it's true enough_  
_That every little thing I do for love_  
_Redeems me from the moments I deem worthy_  
_Of the worst things that I've done..._

_Oh glory, I think I see you round the bend_   
  


-Panic! At The Disco, "Oh Glory"

 

They had the wedding at Remus’ parents home. His parents had not lived in there in a very long time, and he hadn’t been there since Voldemort’s return. It was old and crumbling--a last resort. But there were rolling hills and a weeping willow that trailed silently into a small lake. Remus knew it was almost impossible to have a beautiful wedding in the middle of a war but they had done the best they could.

Enchanted fairy lights twinkled in the willow’s branches and Nymphadora’s father was laughing about something and Remus watched as his new bride kissed her mother’s cheek.

He felt old. Old and tired and ugly in his moth-eaten suit and with the moonlight casting his scars into sharp relief. He wished he could stand underneath the willow tree and not think, not remember, but it was impossible.

Remus had never thought the first wedding he would have attended after the Potters’ would have been his own, but here he was.

Nymphadora was wearing a creamy dress and her hair was long and bubblegum pink, curling around her shoulders like vines. She was glowing with happiness, much like Lily had.

Dead Lily, dead James, dead Sirius, Remus could tick them off on his head and he wondered why it was him who had lived. Why was he, Remus Lupin of the moldy books and old sweaters, alive and Sirius not? Sirius who had burned like heavenly fire, extinguished.

Vigorously, Remus shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking of Sirius tonight, he couldn’t. He had to find some way to erase the image of doomed James and Lily waltzing across the dancefloor, forget the feeling of Sirius in his arms--

With a shudder, Remus strode out from under the willow and walked over to the small band of Nymphadora’s old friends who they had asked to play music and who were currently getting quite drunk.

“I think--I think we need some music,” Remus waved his hand at them to get their attention, “I--the party...needs music.”

They glanced at each other before putting down their drinks and nodding somberly. Remus felt old again and turned on his heel, only to come face to face with Nymphadora.

“What are you doing, love?” She looked concerned, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“He was bullying us to play music, Tonks,” one of the friend’s called out behind them.

Nymphadora rolled her eyes. “Then play some music, hell, it’s my bloody wedding. Do you want to dance, Remus?”

Remus didn’t want to dance because he knew what would crawl up through his memories and poison the vision of his new wife with snippets of the past. But he nodded and took Nymphadora’s hand.

Her friends started playing something soft and full of strings and the two of them swayed in the grass, her head on his shoulder. A few other couples, including Tonks’ parents, begin dancing as well. Remus closed his eyes and breathed deeply, slowly starting calm down. Nymphadora was soft and small in his arms and her pink hair tickled his knuckles pleasantly. He could be happy. He could pretend it was easy.

Then the song ended and a new one began. Tonks friend started singing and though the voice was different and the song simple and acoustic, it struck ice into Remus’ heart.

_Oh sweet thing, sweet thing_

_My, my, my, my, my sweet thing_

_And I shall drive my chariot_

_Down your streets and cry_

_'Hey, it's me, I'm dynamite_

_And I don't know why'_

_And you shall take me strongly_

_In your arms again_

_And I will not remember_

_That I even felt the pain._

Hot summers spent in James’ backyard freckles running down Remus’ arms as he reached out to shove Sirius out of his way as they rushed into the house for supper Sirius all dark hair and tanned skin and flashing teeth hot summer hot kisses burning like coals in Remus’ memory Lily and James’ wedding he spun across the dance floor with Sirius laughing and grabbing his hands--

_We shall walk and talk_

_In gardens all misty and wet with rain_

_And I will never, never, never_

_Grow so old again._

__

Remus wanted to stop dancing. He wanted to shove Nymphadora roughly away and tell her this was all a mistake. He wasn’t who she thought he was. Everything about him was a lie--he was nothing but a shell that walked around carrying the burden of too many deaths and he was more in love with his dead best friend then he could ever even express with words, with magic, with wordless screams of agony.

But Nymphadora looked so happy. She was swaying with him, eyes closed, mouthing the words to the song silently. How did she even know this song, Remus though hysterically, wasn’t she too young?

She opened her eyes and must have construed the intensity in his eyes as a positive thing, because she smiled and lifted her face to kiss him gently. Remus tasted salt and thought of blood and the ocean breaking over him as he was sucked down, down, into a night that was dark and full of terrors.

Later, the two of them sat on the bank of the lake. Remus had his arm around her shoulders and Nymphadora was humming absentmindedly.

“What are you thinking about, Remus?” She asked quietly, looking up at him. “You’ve barely spoken a word in an hour.”

Remus closed his eyes. He wished, so much, that the image burned into his eyelids was not Sirius’ face. But, on the other hand, who would he be if it wasn’t? He couldn’t imagine a Remus Lupin who hadn’t loved Sirius Black, who didn’t still love Sirius. For so many years that love had been his only companion. Even when Sirius was in Azkaban and Remus hated him more than he had ever hated anything the love was there like a hot poker in Remus’ ribs. He couldn’t forget it or let go of it any more than he could reach into his own chest and neatly tug his heart out.

“I’m thinking about Lily and James Potters’ wedding,” Remus said quietly instead of telling Nymphadora about his all-consuming love for her distant cousin. “Ours reminds me of it.”

“Harry’s parents wedding,” Tonks said softly, once again making their age difference very clear. “How is ours like them?”

“Well,” Remus replied softly, “theirs was also small, and in the middle of a war. And it was also...very full of love.”

Nymphadora flushed and then rested her head on his shoulder again, warm and loving and sweet. Remus didn’t deserve her affection, he knew. She deserved someone whole, someone who love her the way she loved him.

But she was happy, and her happiness made Remus feel as if there may be some glory left in the world. At least people still fell in love, still felt joy. He wasn’t one of them, but he was still glad it could happen.

A breeze blew across the lake, ruffling their hair and rustling the willow tree’s leaves. For a moment, it sounded like far away laughter and Remus closed his eyes to hold onto a snatch of his memories that split darkness like a flash of lightning.

__

_Oh sweet thing, sweet thing_

_Sugar-baby with your champagne eyes_

_And your saint-like smile...._

 


End file.
